The cultivated indifference, which was part of the armour of his little world fell away from him. "You are not. " "Afraid?" "Yes. . " "You have extradition papers?" "What sort of a detective do you think I am?" countered O'Higgins. He glanced up at the coachman. But to go courting a slave-girl, at the risk of physical hurt! A shudder of distaste wrinkled her shoulders.
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